


the gods above us

by solitariusvirtus



Series: Uncanny Westeros (Otherworlds) [27]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Drabble Collection, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-17
Updated: 2018-12-20
Packaged: 2019-09-21 04:49:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17036963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/solitariusvirtus/pseuds/solitariusvirtus
Summary: The road to hell is paved with good intentions. In an attempt to end one conflict, another is born.AU! Jon takes the matter of protecting his family into his own hands.





	1. Chapter 1

“Reconsider, Rhaegar.” Lyanna’s urging went unheeded. She knew it would, and yet she could not stop herself from trying. Her husband’s hand rose above the parchment, quill at the ready. “Jaehaera would serve you better in the home of some lord.”

“She will serve me well by ensuring peace at my court.” The quill moved in fluid motions. “Too long have Dorne and the North been at odd with each other. This shall see their conflict to an end.” So it would, she reckoned, albeit not one he had envisioned. “Let me hear no more of your protests, woman.”

“As you wish, husband.” She turned and abandoned his solar.

* * *

 

Ashen-faced, Jaehaera held onto his arm with strength he would not have suspected rested in her fingers. Jon did his best to ignore the minute discomfort and swallowed another mouthful of drink. “You have to help me.”

And so he had. But to defy his father was to go against the King’s word. “You do not wish to have the crown?”

“I would fain exchange a thousand crowns for a husband that is not Aegon. He loathes us, Jon. Do you not see it in his eyes?” Jon thought back on the history of their parents and wondered whether that was not more punishment for those two than Jaehaera. Still and all, her plea could not go unanswered.

* * *

 

Unrest at the Wall. Jon considered the possibility for a brief moment before standing to his feet. The Small Council, forever attending, gave him their attention. “Allow me to go, Your Majesty,” he asked of his father. “If the Night’s Watch lacks men then my uncle is sure to lend me some.”

“Aye. That is a good notion,” his father spoke after a few moments. “Take Sers Dayne and Whent with you.”  

“But father, what knowledge does he have of battle?” Aegon protested. “I should–“

“You are the Crown Prince, brother,” Jon cut him off. He had to make it look as though this was some manner of favour. “We cannot afford to lose you.”

* * *

 

“The Wall? Have you gone mad, Jon?” She certainly seemed to be of that opinion. Jon regarded his lady mother with patience. There were things she did not need to know, after all. “Your sister has need of you. I have need of you. And you leave us in pursuit of what?”

“Duty, lady mother. A word I am certain upon reflection you shall find the value of.” He glanced towards the door, just in time to see his squire enter. “Father expects me to see to the situation at the Wall.”

“And I expect you to protect your sister.” He shrugged.

* * *

 

“You do not have to accept the betrothal,” Arianne pointed out, gliding her fingers through his hair. “’Tis not as though it will make a difference.” Not in the long run in any event, Aegon agreed, wrapping an arm about his cousin’s waist.

“I want to make her my wife.” The Dornish Princess froze mid-motion. “I want her to live through the worse days of her life and know that I am the cause. I want to see understanding dawn in her eyes before she dies.”

“And should she breed?”

“She shan’t.” She looked down into his eyes unconvinced. “Even I am not that cruel.”

* * *

 

“My lord, I am begging you.” Lyanna was unaccustomed to pleading. She had certainly not done so a day in her life ever since the day of her mother’s day. She had begged the gods for her safe return. They had brought her back a corpse.

“You are asking me to go against the King’s wishes.” Lord Lannister, she knew, had been waiting for his opportunity.

“You can have the girl.” Lyanna countered. ‘Twas a good thing he had no daughters still prime candidates for breeding good sons. Still and all, a royal marriage was a royal marriage.

“My son as well.” Seeing where he was going with this, Lyanna bit into her lip.

“I shall do my best to see him freed of his vows but I cannot promise–“

“Find a way, Your Majesty. Or the deal falls through.”

* * *

 

“Visit Rhaenys? Whatever for?” Lyanna did her best not to appear anxious as the question finally registered. She cleared her throat in a bid to buy time and proceeded to stroke a hand over the folds of her skirts.

“I’ve been thinking, Jaehaera has not had an easy time of it. Surely her own sister would put her mind at ease regarding the upcoming marriage.” Shyly, she glanced up at her husband. “I would have certainly been grateful for a woman’s wisdom when I was in her position.”

He made a thoughtful sound. “You truly think it is necessary?”

“I believe it would help our daughter.” She moved around his desk in order to reach him.  

* * *

 

Uncle Brandon sneered. “I never liked the man.” Jon had known as much and had been counting on it. “Jaehaera is my sister’s daughter. To allow her to suffer would be an affront to my sister.” He placed down his cup. “What I don’t understand, though, is your detour.”

“A promise is a promise, uncle.” Jon put down his own drink. “And no one can possibly blame you for giving in to the demands and pressures of an army at your door.”

Booming laughter filled the chamber. “I thought you were all Lyanna, but I see there is some of your father in you. Very well, ‘tis not as though we do him any worse than he has done his own sire.”

* * *

 

“Abducted?” Lyanna, seated in her chair, produced a worthy gasp of horror. Rhaegar was not looking at her though, so he could not see her expression. If her voice was perfectly capable of lying, her face was not. “Who would dare?” her husband demanded.

“Lord Arryn thinks ‘tis the mountain clans at work.” The Lord Commander of the Kingsguard stony expression would have struck her as odd, were she not conscious that the way he phrased the matter implied disbelief.

“What do you think, Ser Gerold?”

“The body of Ser Barristan was not found among the dead. Begging pardon, Your Majesty, Her Grace I can understand not being among the dead, but what would they do with Selmy?”

* * *

 

“An army?” The words ripped through the stunned silence. Rhaegar turned towards the man, not out of concern, but for confirmation. “You are certain.”

“Many arms strong, wild men and Northerners alike. They fly a silver dragon as their banner.” Why would his son of all people do such a thing?

Swaying on unsteady feet, Rhaegar sought out the eyes of his wife. “You put him up to it, didn’t you?” Her eyes widened in alarm and she jumped back as he lunged for her. Unfortunately for Lyanna, he was both the better strategist and the swifter of the two. “Tell me the truth.” He gripped her tightly.

“I wanted him to help his sister.”


	2. Chapter 2

 

 

 

 

 

 

“He stands in open revolt!” Aegon was wondering if the King had gone insane. He stared in disbelief at his sire, fingers clenching around the parchment which contained the man’s response to the situation. “Does it not matter to you that he is a traitor, with a traitor’s blood running through his veins?”          

“Do not speak so of your brother.” It was simply fascination, the power one slip of a woman could have on so mighty a man. Always protecting her and her get, his father was. Aegon clenched his teeth against the wave of wrath washing over him.

“Someone has to, else you’ll turn a blind eye to his actions.”

* * *

 

Jaehaera struggled against the bonds holding her wrists tied together. The rough rope cut into the thin skin of her wrists. She could feel the bite pressing into already open wounds and cried against the cloth blocking her from speech. Why were the gods so cruel? Surely she had done nothing to deserve such a fate.

From somewhere ahead the sound of steps rang in her ears. Voices, deep and rough, rose from the darkness. If only she were able to see. Frustration gnawed at her, mingling with ear and weariness. Again she attempted to loosen the grip of the ropes. There had to be something she could do.

* * *

 

“Your Majesty, you must eat.” The attempt fell on mutinous ears. Lyanna had decided that she would not follow Rhaegar’s orders for once. If he thought he could run roughshod over her he had a thing or two to learn. And she was more than glad to teach him.

“This is absurd, Your Majesty; if you starve yourself to death who shall look after Her Grace once she is returned.” Again, she ignored the plea in favour of toying with a string of pearls. Rhaegar had made a gift if it to her after Jon’s birth. The beads wrapped around her wrist, their cold kiss enough to give her shivers. He could not keep her imprisoned forever.

* * *

 

Jon rubbed his hands together, any hope of warding off the chill dying away as a gust of wind blew past them. He overlooked the camp from his own tent, eyeing the sea of men. Each and every one of them was engaged in some activity which doubtlessly would see their comfort come nightfall.

“You risk a great deal going against the wishes of a king such as yours.” The words had him glancing over his shoulder. “You kneelers do not know how to reward gumption.”

“There is a difference between going against a man’s wishes and going against the man himself.”

“The two are not so easily separated.”

* * *

 

He combed his fingers through his hair, wondering not for the first time whether he had been right to do as he’d done. If only he had allowed himself to confer with his lady mother upon the matter. And yet, he knew she would have refused to see the wisdom of crushing the head of the snake when the chance presented itself instead of tiptoeing around the issue.

She’d argue he was too much of a blunt instrument, that sometimes one was best served by patience and careful planning. But would she have had any way of extricating Jaehaera from the dreaded marriage? Would she have had the power to keep it from happening?    

Jon brush a hand over his face.

* * *

 

“You can stand with us, or you can run and bow before the dragon and hope he doesn’t take your head,” Brandon said, his voice muffled by the closeness between him and Ned. “But don’t think I’ll show you any mercy on the field of battle.” He pulled away from his kin with a cold glare.

“You are mistaking Jon’s intentions. His fight is not against his sire anymore than it is against his own house. Have you seen the banners your armies fly?” 

“He may fight against whomever he desires. I have a bone to pick with the old dragon atop his throne and I mean to see matters through.”

“Have a care.” The warning was summarily dismissed.

* * *

 

“Have I not told you?” Arianne questioned, crossing her arms over her chest. “The wolves know only how to betray. They dug my poor aunt a grave and thought they could get away with it. And now they wish to bury you as well.”

“Let them break their teeth upon the steel of my blade then.” Aegon held his weapon up high, watching the light reflect off the metal. Jon would learn that the perils of setting himself against his older brother. He would crush the traitor beneath the heel of his booth.

“Could it be any different?” the woman questioned, the light smile painted upon her lips widening like a rose in full bloom. His Arianne was a smart woman, Aegon decided.  

* * *

 

The chamber was well-lit, decorated in a style befitting the gently reared and noble. Jaehaera rubbed her sore wrists, looking warily about. For a brief moment she considered the possibility that she was dreaming but dismissed it upon feeling her flesh protest at the slightest of touches. One did not feel pain in dreams. Gingerly, she brought her legs over the edge of the bed, surprised to meet a soft carpet once she made the jump.

“Yer Grace, you have come to!” She jumped at the sound, coming face to face with a neatly dressed servant woman.

“Where am I?” she demanded. “And who are you?”

The woman bobbed her curtsy. “If it please you, Yer Grace, you are in the home of m’lord Lannister.”

* * *

 

“I have been patient with you, but even I have my limits.” In her customary stubbornness, his lady wife refused to acknowledge him. Rhaegar was aware he ought to have held her reins that much firmer, alas, he’d thought her behaviour charming once. “Either you begin acting in proper fashion or I shall treat you as you seem to wish I do.”

Her lips pursed and she turned her head away. Rhaegar closed his eyes for but a moment, doing his best to stave his temper. “Very well, lady wife; I leave you in the care of the good septas. Let us hope you can be taught a lesson in decorum.” Lyanna gave him a chilling glare.

* * *

 

“You will die.” Jon held his brother’s gaze. The words registered slowly, the genuine wrath beneath them even slower. “If not today then on the morrow. Or the day after. I will not rest until I hand you into the arms of the stranger.”  

“We all have our ambitions,” he quipped with an ease he was not feeling. “While I can claim no such plans myself, I would rather we end this in the way of our forefathers. Let your best man fight against mine.”

“I don’t believe so. If you would have us battle then let your men follow you into the pits hell.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think.


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